Unexpected Date
by bandgeek111
Summary: After Cuddy asks House on a date, how will the night go? R&R much appreciated.
1. The First Step

A friend and I are writing this together. Hope you guys enjoy!:D

Chapter 1

Cuddy couldn't believe she was doing this. She was standing at the door of House's office, watching him bounce a ball of the wall, subconsciously straightening her blouse as if she cared what she looked like in front of him. She caught sight of herself adjusting her appearance in her reflection in the glass walls, and was instantly angry with herself. Since when did she care how she looked in front of Greg House? Never. She admonished herself.

Without bothering to knock, she opened the door a crack and soundlessly slipped in.

"House?" she said, trying to sound casual, "About those tickets..."

House catched the over sized ball and looked up curiously. He noted her rather hesitant demeanor and smiled slightly to himself. He continued to bounce the ball against the wall, letting Cuddy gather her thoughts. He had a fairly vague idea of what Cuddy wanted to ask him. But it was in his nature for him to make things obnoxiously hard before agreeing to it. Of course, agreeing to it, if it was in his favor, of course.

Cuddy took a breath and straightened her jacket. Suddenly she was painfully aware of just how low-cut her red shirt was. Hopefully House wouldn't make a crack about it today.

"Well, I thought I'd take a friend from another department, but it turns out they have plans, so I wondered if--"

Bah, she should just spit it out already.

"If you would come with me instead?"

Oh, hell. She could feel herself blush slightly as she saw House's eyes appraise her. She painfully stood, trying to look casual, trying to act as if this were a normal thing to do.

House stopped bouncing the ball against the wall as a very small, but quite victorious smirk spread across his lips.

House tilted his head at Cuddy, analyzing her.

"Is this...a date, Cuddy?"

Cuddy blinked at House, his disbelief easily matching her own. Had she been any other woman, she would've looked away, blushing and stammering, but as it were, she was Lisa bloody Cuddy, and she would never allow House to make her nervous.

"What? No. Not at all. It's not. We're friends. At least, I assume we are."

She shook her head firmly. A small voice in her head questioned whether she was saying that to reassure herself, or House. Or both. God damn it.

House was in a playful mood. And one of his favorite past times was bothering Cuddy. He completely ignored her statement and continued with his own train of thoughts.

"Usually Cuddy, when a woman asks a man to go somewhere with them, that means they're interested. So..." He stated. "You're interested?"

Hey. He had full dibs on this one. They DID have that fling back in college. He had all the rights in the world to take a jab at this. And plus, it was rather entertaining, watching Cuddy struggle to come up for a professional sounding answer.

She was very tempted to answer, "hell no," but was determined to keep in workplace protocol, even at a time like this.

"Noooo," she said slowly, drawing the word out and fixing House with a look that suggested he was a dimwitted kindergartener and she was his very patient teacher. "It means I had no one else to ask."

Inwardly she cringed, realizing the statement meant she had...well, no other friends besides House. Which was really very sad.

Though in all honesty, she had Wilson, but Wilson had infuriatingly refused to go with her, and had suggested she go with House instead. So here she was.

Suffering.


	2. It's All Set

Chapter 2

House was having too much fun with this.

"I'm your last resort? Isn't there some sort of odd saying or something? 'Save the best for last.' Or something like that?"

His grin just kept on getting bigger and bigger. He had every intention of going; he just had to make things hard in between. That was just the way he worked. He had known Cuddy since college. So once again, there really was no harm in this playful banter for him.

He loved analyzing people. And his personal pastimes had to be Wilson and Cuddy.

Cuddy, just because of the fact that she had so much hidden away in that lioness outer shell of hers. Lisa Cuddy was a puzzle for him, and curiosity got the best of him always. He'd figure her out. But…there was another part of him, which didn't want to figure her out.

He shook his head slightly, pushing his deep thoughts away. Now, was not the best time for this.

The happier House seemed to be, the crabbier Cuddy began to feel, until finally she was internally debating whether she should storm out of his office, dump the contents of his mug down his shirt, or smash his keyboard over his head.

In the end, she ignored all three options.

"Look, are you coming or not?" she demanded irritably. "I can always give the tickets to someone else."

She knew that she was cracking her workplace protocol, but by God! House was such a _child _sometimes!

House grinned, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

"I'll go." He replied simply. As an afterthought, he added, smirking,

"Don't want you to miss out on things couples do."

But then, House thought for a moment. A very, very, _very _ urgent question that pressed on his mind. A question that could determine his mood for the next 24 hours…

"Uh…these are tickets to...where?" He asked, slightly hesitant, which was very uncharacteristic of him.

Relieved, Cuddy let out a small sigh and dropped both hands into the pockets of her pristine, white lab coat. "Okay then," she said with finality.

She was in the process of turning to leave when House spoke again.

"A concert," she said shortly, "violins and cellos and all that upper-crust goodness. It's probably not what you prefer," she added, thinking of House's horrendous, occasional inclination towards rock music, "but it'll do."

House paused. This time, a small, genuine smile passed through his lips. But it quickly passed. House couldn't let her know that she knew the exact buttons to push. But then again, House mused. Maybe she already knew.

"That's fine." He commented. "So long as it's not opera. I'm okay with it. But...this does mean I have to wear that oxygen crushing tie and itchy coat jacket, right?"

"Oh, opera...no." Cuddy visibly cringed this time. "I'm all for high culture, but there's a certain frequency of noise that my ears just can't take," she said truthfully, noting with mild surprise that she and House had something in common--mutual dislike for fat ladies screeching.

"Itchy coat jacket and tie, yes. I won't be seen with you if you look like someone I pulled off the streets, you know."

She strode to the glass door and pulled it open. "Eight o'clock, downtown. Don't be late." She rounded the corner and paused. Leaning against the wall, she let a brief smile grace her features. Maybe, she thought. Maybe this will turn out all right.

House merely nodded as Cuddy left his office. He rubbed his stubble for a moment and then got up as well. If he had to dress up...then all of his formal clothes were in the depths of his drawer at home.


	3. Meeting Up

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Chapter 3

He was staring at himself in the mirror, clearly unnerved. He had shaved, completely shaved that is, and nervously ran a hand through his gaunt cheeks. On top of that, he had actually ironed his shirt. He was wearing a damn tux because he couldn't find his stupid ties.

"God..." He murmured. House hoped he didn't look at stupid as he felt. Because for some reason unknown to him, all his self-confidence had been shot down the drain. House was painfully aware of the limp he carried, and his brow furrowed deeper. He didn't care. Nope. Not one bit, he repeated again and again to himself.

Oh Jesus Christ. He was rather antsy. He peered at himself once more at his mirror, and limped out the door.

In the silent privacy of her own home, a couple miles away from House's, Cuddy was also standing before a mirror, albeit fretting with greater magnitude than the diagnostician was. In fact, thought Cuddy, House probably couldn't bring himself to care at all.

But her plight was different--she had no idea how to dress, for once in her life. If she dressed to casually, she'd feel insecure and ugly all night. If she put effort into her appearance, she'd probably suffer House's teasings of, "oh, you tried to look good for me." ...Or something lame like that.

But in the midst of thinking through all these frantic reasonings, she glanced at herself in the mirror. She was biting her lower lip slightly, as her hands shook. Cuddy took a deep breath, and let go. She was merely going to watch a concert with a colleague. That was it. That was all.

However, that one pestering thought came creeping in. _It's not JUST another colleague. It's Gregory House._ Cuddy glared at herself at the mirror as she controlled her shaking hands.

She opened her jewelry box and lifted out a strand of pearls. It was somewhat suitable...just somewhat.

He had to take his car. House groaned at the thought. If he rode his bike, then his tux would definitely get all wind ridden, and with all the stupid effort he had put in, although, he had no idea why even cared what he looked like, he didn't want it to get wrinkled.

He found his car keys, and stepped into vehicle. House felt cramped. Grumbling curses to himself, he started the engine and backed out, heading for down town. Looking at his watch, he was right on schedule. Which was...odd for him.

Very odd.

It took Cuddy a full half-hour to pick out an ensemble that didn't look too somber or completely ridiculous. It was a deep navy dress in a fabric that resembled something like satin--not dark enough to be serious, not light enough to be crazy--and her strand of pearls now hung around her neck.

She checked the time. She, like House, was right on schedule.

Grabbing her evening purse on the way out, she flicked out all her lights and locked the front door behind her. Her car awaited her in the driveway.

Parking fees were absolutely ridiculous these days, Cuddy thought to herself with an exasperated grumble. Fifteen bucks in a parking garage for a mere hour and a half? It was preposterous. All the same, she handed over the fee with a fake smile and found a spot on the fourth level of the garage.

The elevator ride down was painfully slow (the elevator music was almost as painful), and the short walk down the block to the posh-looking concert hall was even more painful...though Cuddy had a legitimate reason for that: her four-inch heels simply weren't made for walking.

When she arrived at the revolving glass doors, she peered out across the plaza for House and wasn't surprised to find that she had arrived before him.

Typical.

"15 dollars?!" House shouted at the poor lady inside the booth collecting the fees.

"Are you completely out of your MIND?! There's no way I'm paying 15 dollars!"

"I-I'm sorry sir but..."

House didn't have time for this. He had almost crashed into three cars on his way here and now...

"Damn it. Here. Just take it." He literally threw the cash into her face as he managed to find a parking spot. As he went in the elevator he rolled his eyes at the metallic cheery, elevator music that was playing. He popped a Vicodin, and finally it seemed, the doors opened. He limped out quickly, gripping his cane.

"What took you so long?" Cuddy hissed when House finally showed himself, limping towards her from the parking garage.

"Don't tell me...did you argue with the lady in the booth?" she asked, coming closer to the truth than she could possibly know.

But the truth was that House was House--he would be late, and that was that. There was nothing else to it.

"Of COURSE I argued with the lady at the booth." House snapped, "15 bucks for a stupid parking space?! Not to mention...forget it." House grumbled. He checked his watch.

"Three minutes before they start to reject the ticket holders." He mumbled.

He quickly started walking towards the concert hall doors.


	4. Getting In

Chapter 4

Three minutes? Cuddy's eyes flicked downwards at House's cane and her first thought was that he definitely wasn't going to make it through the lobby and into their seats in three minutes flat. Her second thought was that if the theater workers shut them out, House would probably give them his bitter cripple lecture and voila! Open sesame.

Still, she couldn't fight back a mild look of concern.

"Are you going to make it all right?" This time, it was the friend part of her that was asking, and not the administrator image that she usually so proudly held up.

House quickly analyzed Cuddy's glancing looks. As if reading her concern, and ignoring the one that she plainly stated, he replied,

"I'm a cripple." He held up his cane. "People who don't know me, pity me. Watch this."

There was already a long line, and currently, House and Cuddy were at the back of the line. He nonchalantly jammed his cane into the couple in front of them. The two of them turned around immediately, glaring, and looking as if they could maul someone.

House was a brilliant actor. His timing, his facial expression…everything was right on. As soon as they turned, he put on his surprised, Oh-I'm-Terribly-Sorry- Face. "Oh! Pardon me!" He said, putting stress on the pardon.

The couple's expression quickly changed.

"Oh, no, no! We're sorry, there probably just wasn't enough room! Here- would you like to go ahead of us?"

Now, House was on a roll.

"Well, if your sure that's alright. It's just-" But House didn't even need to finish, the couple was already pushing House and Cuddy forward to the front of the line, and the people in the line, merely glanced at House and his cane and let him do so. At the front of the line, House let a triumphant flicker of a smile come through, as he looked quite smug with himself.

Cuddy rolled her eyes, having seen this act before. How long ago was it--eight months? A year? House had used his ever-present cane to win some very heartfelt (and guilty) apologies from unwitting hospital patients who didn't already know who he was.

But this time around, Cuddy was secretly glad House was able to virtually eliminate their waiting time in line.

A very neatly dressed usher greeted them in the concert chamber.

"Your tickets, please, Madame?" he asked with perfect composure.

Cuddy numbly handed both tickets over, trying to remember the last time someone had called her 'Madame.' Maybe House...but sarcastically, which obviously didn't count. It was refreshing to be called 'Madame'--how fancy and polite it was. But strangely enough, it also made her feel terribly old. She was in the act of turning away from the young usher when he suddenly noted, "You two are the perfect picture of togetherness, aren't you?"

"What?" Cuddy froze, looking from the usher to House in perfect shock. She turned to House almost accusingly, thinking he was behind the remark.

"Please tell me you didn't ask him to say that. Are you trying to torture me?"

House looked unnaturally shocked for about 15 seconds. His expression rivaled Cuddy's. He turned to face her, still rather speechless. But inside, something seemed to glow with happiness? No, happiness was too strong of a word.

He'd settle with...less miserable.

"It was all him." House quipped back, pointing his index finger at the usher.

He quickly analyzed the kid. Had to be early 20's at the most, kind of scrawny, but tall. Lanky. The kid was smiling for goodness sake. And while he, House, was relatively pleased at the remark, he had to hide it. But, at this point, House was pretty bad at hiding it. He usually said a quirky comeback, but this time, said nothing.

"Onwards!" He remarked, lifting his cane and pointing towards the seats. He had gone slightly ahead of Cuddy. And a small, genuine smile flitted through his face as even his irregular gait seemed to be lighter in step.


	5. Loosening Up

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Chapter 5

Hoping that the growing darkness in the auditorium would be enough to hide the rising color in her cheeks, Cuddy wordlessly followed House and hoped that the usher was just another one of those ignorant young people and had not, as she feared, made some sort of keen observation. She thoroughly tried to calm herself by saying that he was just going through that "stage" of seeing everything in a romantic prospective. After all, she and House were just colleagues, and at most, friends. And even that term was used very lightly…Right?

Right. She reassured herself. She was Lisa Cuddy. Dean of Medicine and Princeton Plainboro Teaching Hospital. She was Wonder Woman. She wouldn't let something like this waver her stride. With that set in mind, she squared her shoulders and walked stiffly into the concert hall.

Now she wholeheartedly hoped that House would have enough good sense not to bring this up at work the following week.

"Right," Cuddy mumbled to mask her discomfort, and settled herself into a seat next to House. The audience went silent just as Cuddy was feeling her most confused and restless. How was she going to function at work if House was going to stay on her mind like this? Although, he was always on her mind…not like that though. Just…just in the way of 'What did House do now?" kind of way. Not the leisurely, "I wonder what House is up to?" She blinked hard. She wasn't going to think about him.

No, no he wasn't, she told herself firmly (she hoped). But one look sideways at House's crooked smile put himself firmly back in her mind.

"Will you...will you stop that?" she hissed, her frustration making itself apparent in her voice. Her neck muscles slightly straining as her smooth hands were slightly curled as if in fists.

"Stop what?" Was his innocent reply, his grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. His blue eyes seem to sparkle as the lights completely dimmed and the orchestra started to warm up.

House turned his head to face Cuddy completely. Even though he couldn't see her face anymore, he could tell she was uncomfortable. His blue eyes darted across her face, as his grinned stretched.

"You look good tonight, Cuddy." He said, winking briefly.

Dear God, he felt like he was back in the old college days with Cuddy. He felt like a schoolboy with too much testosterone built up. But he was…dare he say it? He was elated! It seemed rather impossible, but his logical mind could find no other word to rather express this feeling. It was comfortable; it was easy, it was right to be here with Cuddy. Like this. Together.

It was fitting but infuriating that both of them seemed to have reverted back to their high school/college selves. Now that was an insecure, flighty time for Cuddy before she had discovered her "inner administrator", so to speak, and she desperately didn't want to revisit that point in her life...unless it was the triumph of making top marks on her exams.

"Stop...everything!" she said lamely, gesturing in House's general direction. "Smirking, I mean," she added, finally finding the word she was looking for. "We're not at work, House; I'm sure you can bring yourself to stop smiling like you've got one up on a patient."

Yes, that was what House was making her feel like right now--a patient. In need of medical attention, and terribly stupid.

At his compliment her previously irritated expression froze into a perfectly bewildered one. "Oh," she said when she found her voice. "Well. Ah, so do you. Like I said--you clean up nicely. Pity you don't try it more often." Realizing that might have been on the rude side, she gave House a quick, small smile to show she was only jokingly chiding him.

House chuckled softly, amused at Cuddy's almost frantic behavior. He could tell that her proud administrator image was cracking—rather badly at that. As the orchestra started to play its beginning notes, House leaned in closer, their shoulders touching. Murmuring softly he replied gently, "Ease up. We're not at work, that's what you said. You're more tense here with me, then you are at your office screaming at me."

House gestured slightly, "Same thing. Just omit the yelling at me part." Cuddy had a faint flowery smell on her. House never noticed that. Well, then again, he had never been so close to her before. Come on..."

He hesitated slightly, "Lisa." He said, grinning again. "Relax." House backed away, slinking down into his chair.

Damn it, House was right--he was always right, it seemed. (Irritatingly so, but nevertheless, right.) He was spot-on about her tenseness and spot-on about the remedy: loosening up. She settled back in her seat, fixed her eyes on the stage, and pretended to pay attention.

When House leaned in and made contact with her shoulder, Cuddy remained perfectly still, wondering if she should pull away or stay put. The must've chosen the second one because she was completely unable to unroot herself from the spot.

"All right then," she said reluctantly, and added, "Greg," emphasizing the single syllable with a wry smile and paralleling his use of her first name.


	6. DayNight Dreaming

Chapter 6

The orchestra struck up a pleasant staccato, classical melody and as the music grew louder, Cuddy's tenseness melted away. To give her anxiety a final send-off, she leaned towards House and pointed at a cellist on the far right, asking, "Is that a man or a woman? Because I'm having the hardest time figuring it out."

Unconsciously, her knee touched House's knee gently. She could feel the smoothness of his slacks against her bare legs and felt an odd sensation about her. She was wondering why, and glanced down quickly. Cuddy realized why, and immediately felt embarrassed. But once again, she was rooted to the spot. She wasn't going to, nor did she want to, (though, her mind argued against her with this one) if House didn't notice. She quickly glanced over at her "date". If he had noticed, then he was doing a marvelous job masking it. If he hadn't noticed…well, all the better for her, correct? Cuddy mentally slapped herself.

What was she doing? House was a brilliant diagnostician and she was just having one night with him. Oh. That sounded wrong. Her mind started to wander again. It didn't matter that the diagnostician's hair was tousled, (though, she thought that he had tried to smooth it down. She wouldn't dare ask, though), gave her an intense feeling to see what would happen if she ran her hands through his hair. His intense blue eyes, even in the darkness of the concert hall, she could imagine his eyes piercing into the performers, his nose, his thin lips, which were pressed into a small grin, and there was barely a hint of a shadow among his strong, usually stubbled jaw. Although, Cuddy had to admit, that, House did look good with the stubble.

And the tux…Oh…She blinked. She smiled slightly.

Well, they certainly had the saying right. Men, do look good in uniform. And Greg House had certainly put a new twist onto that one. Not only did he look stunningly handsome, in his own way, he also looked rugged. But what a wonderful 'rugged' that was.

The grin was back, and Gregory House felt like he was floating. He just barely heard what Cuddy was saying; she was so close to him, it was so nice, so comforting. To close in the distance, House tilted his head towards Cuddy, his face facing the orchestra.

"That one? Man. Definitely male. Possibly confused about his sexuality though." He murmured, only loud enough so Cuddy could hear.

She looked absolutely beautiful. The woman Lisa Cuddy was absolutely intrigued House. The strong, righteous, businesswoman that she was, she looked absolutely sexy in all of it. In everything that she did. She was as close to perfect as anyone could get.

Maybe, except for the fact that she was desperate for a man.

Desperate for a family.

Desperate for a child.

He chose a different perspective. House breathed in her scent again. It wasn't strong, it merely gave the faintest trails, and it drew him in even closer. Her dark brown hair, flowing down to her shoulders, was gently caressing her back. House idly wondered what it would be like to caress Cuddy like that. Her dark blue eyes, so very big, so very bright, and so very full of life. But it also hinted loneliness, a bit of weariness, and a speck of neediness, and an understanding of life, very much like himself. Down to her lips, which were upturned into a magnificent smile, and gave House a feeling of joy. (Which was, of course, very odd for him). Her neck, her shoulders, and…Ah. The produce section. His grin stretched slightly, but he moved down soon after. Those were the end effects of many of his jokes. But, ah…her legs. Beautifully shaped, smooth, and best of all, their legs were touching.

That was the best part.

His blue eyes blinked multiple times. Oh. Right. Where was he? Right. He was at a concert.

He was so close to her. So close. He hadn't been this close to her in years. It was such an odd feeling. It was odd, and yet, it felt easy. It felt right.


	7. Snickers Bar

Chapter 7

That last bit was pure House, and despite her belief in maintaining good manners, Cuddy couldn't suppress a genuine laugh that was a bit louder than perhaps was appropriate in a...well, darkened concert hall listening to a live performance.

Several irritated audience members instantly shushed her. Cuddy was glad it had only been a laugh and not her cell phone ring tone going off, which she was sure would get her mobbed by the entire audience. (Actually, she'd probably be able to defend herself spectacularly by picking up House's cane and taking a swing at her attackers...now there was an interesting thought.)

Cuddy risked a sideways glance at House. "We should do this more often."

House was quite pleased with himself. He got Cuddy to laugh. Cuddy! Lisa Cuddy! He hadn't heard her laugh for years! Her smile was absolutely gorgeous. Even in the darkened concert hall, he could see that clearly. He thought of this as a very high accomplishment. Not that he...care-. Oh, damn it. Of course he cared.

As some of the audience shushed her, House had half a mind to give them a piece of his mind. But he held back. House caught Cuddy's glance and gave her one of those rare dimple smiles he usually had.

"We should."

But then of course, it became rather awkward for the both of them. Neither of them was used to the other being so…free. House was used to Cuddy yelling at him, and Cuddy was used to yelling at House. That was their structure. That was what they were used to. This was…this was the unknown, the unexpected, the…unstructured.

There was a strange shuffling in the dark as Cuddy dug through her evening purse to occupy herself and keep her mind off of House and...Indecent things. Some of the audience members shushed her once again, but this time, she ignored them completely. Instead…

"Snickers bar?" she asked with a look of uncommon levity, and held one out to House. "This way we don't have to blow twenty bucks on overpriced refreshments here." She thought she was being quite reasonable. It was simpler this way. She had to slow things down before things got too complicated for her already over fried brain.

Yes, Cuddy was always prepared. Or at least, she liked to think she was.

House managed to quietly stiffen a chuckle as he nodded. Lisa Cuddy just amazed him. She certainly did have a sense of humor. Even if…even if she didn't mean it to be funny. Yes. She certainly was one of a kid, this Lisa Cuddy. And this is what made House feel extremely glad that he was with her. Tonight. Like this.

"Sounds good right about now." He said as he reached for the candy bar. "You realize though, I've booked a restaurant for us, afterwards?" Then, added hastily, as if not to seem to...'gentlemanly.'

"I mean, it's no where THAT expensive." (Actually, very expensive.) But, House was House. And he tried to push it off lightly. He reached for the candy bar anyways, and as it was passed between them, their hands momentarily met, giving House a strange sensation. Her hands were so smooth, and so-...

Well, this was quite embarrassing. Focus on the damn candy bar. He thought to himself. He opened the wrapper, ignoring the menacing glares he was getting, and chewed on his snicker's bar. He savored the rich flavor, the nuttyness, the sugar..ness, and thought of…

He closed his eyes. Jesus Christ Almighty. He was really losing it. He was eating a damn candy bar and he was thinking of her. The candy bar was really good, though. House thought, trying to get his mind off of her. But it was just impossible. Simply undoable.

Booked...a restaurant? Cuddy blinked, visibly stunned, and stared at House for a moment. When the initial shock wore off and she had finally found her voice, she risked a chide of, "What, Burger King? You shouldn't have." She made a mental note not to be too mean--after all, sometimes House could retreat into rather dark, hurt moods. And when that happened? Generally, things around the hospital didn't get done properly. Or done at all.

Cuddy drew her hand back first, regrettably feeling all the awkwardness rushing back. It was getting more and more difficult by the minute to sit in House's presence without feeling like a fool.

"Like I said." House murmured, feeling Cuddy's confused gaze on him. "Nothing too special. But I mean, we have to dress like this of course or they'll..." He cleared his throat, for once, at a loss for words. Where the hell did his composure go? He glanced quickly down at the program.

According to the program, they had about...House estimated about 25-30 minutes left.

Then realizing he hadn't finished his sentence, he finished off awkwardly. "It's...formal wear..." He murmured, his voice trailing off.

Formal wear, Cuddy mentally finished the sentence, and was rewarded with the knowledge that she'd been right.

She gave House a nod to acknowledge his words (but also to show him she hadn't suddenly dropped dead) and lapsed into uncomfortable silence. Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" had never felt so long before in her entire life.

The reason for her sudden silence was perfectly simple: apparently she--like everyone else--had written House off as an insensitive jerk beyond hope. But...maybe she'd been wrong?

Oh, she'd definitely been wrong. And the realization was momentous enough to almost spring tears to her eyes, which it would've done had she had any less control over herself.


	8. Exclusive Circle

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Chapter 8

House was fidgety. Oh so very fidgety. He was rubbing his knuckles on his pant leg, and his eyes kept darting from one side of the concert hall to the other. He was nervous. Nervous about what? Cuddy? No, no that couldn't be it. Just couldn't. They...He... was merely taking-bringing-driving-…

God damn it. He couldn't find the right word. He murmured something to himself as he finished his narrative in his head. He was merely taking Cuddy to dinner. They were going to have awkward conversation, and-.

And then House remembered Cuddy's laugh just moments before. Her tinkling soprano laugh that gave House a wonderful feeling. He wanted to hear it again. House nodded to himself. He'd show Cuddy a good night, but he couldn't...clue her on in it.

That was ridiculous. She'd know. But...maybe she wouldn't? House rubbed his jaw, his mind plainly not listening to 'Spring' from the Four Seasons.

For the most part, Cuddy was too distracted by her own inner turmoil to notice what was going on in House's mind. But then, by chance, her gaze flicked towards his side, and she stopped to touch his shoulder.

She shouldn't have. After her fingers met the fabric of his well-cut, fine-looking suit jacket, they didn't want to leave. Her mind wandered for about ten seconds thinking how broad his defined shoulders were, and then…

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked carefully, fearing he was about to have a nervous breakdown. "We don't have to sit here. We can go outside if you--if you--"

If you what? She made herself pull her hand away.

"...if you need air," Cuddy finished lamely.

It took House a moment to register that Cuddy was talking to him. And then it took another to realize that her hand was on his shoulder. He could feel the light weight of her hand, and he immediately calmed himself- or rather, tried to. House thought he pulled it off, but in reality, it showed that he was rather antsy.

"What? No, no. I'm fine. It's okay. It's...It's almost over anyways."

When Cuddy took her hand away, he immediately missed the weight. Immediately wanted it back.

He blinked. Wow. He really was losing it.

If a night out at an orchestra concert was this damn stressful, Cuddy hated to think what a night staffing the ER in a crime-ridden part of New York City might be like. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Not that she, as a hospital administrator had to do something like that. It was merely an analogy, a metaphor, and so much like…

House.

Silence fell again, and they sat through the remaining musical pieces of the evening in utter awkwardness.

When the curtain fell and the most of the audience rose to their feet in thunderous applause, Cuddy felt--and no doubt looked--like she'd just been through a train wreck. She rose to her feet slowly, looking like a rude audience member, when in truth she just felt rather winded by the whole...ordeal...with

House.

The applause couldn't have come sooner, was House's first thought as he achingly got up. Now, it was time to get out of here as fast as possible. He wasn't claustrophobic, but he certainly was feeling a little invaded in personal space with all these people around him. Not that he minded Cuddy invading his personal sp-.

No. No, no, no. He would NOT finish that thought.

Brandishing his cane like a weapon, he yelled, "Cripple!" The sea of people parted, and unconsciously, House grabbed Cuddy's hand and pulled her through. It wasn't until they got to the double doors leading back into the lobby did House just realize what he had done. He let go hastily.

"Sorry." He muttered, casting his eyes up, in order to avoid her gaze.

Ah, yes, the old 'helpless cripple' ploy. For the second time that night, Cuddy found something truly funny and was unable to hold back a flood of bright laughter, completely astonishing herself. It was like this was their little inside joke, and anyone around who didn't work at Princeton-Plainsboro--in other words, absolutely everyone in the auditorium--wasn't included in the fun. It made Cuddy feel special somehow, like she was part of an exclusive circle.

Odd thing to be thinking, but then again, House always seemed to bring out the oddest things about her.

She ran awkwardly in House's wake--he was incredibly fast with his cane--and tried her best not to impale anyone's feet with her deadly high heels. And Cuddy, like House, didn't notice their hands were clasped together until he had let go.

...And she found herself wishing terribly that he had never let go.

"Ah, it's--it's fine. I don't...mind," Cuddy assured him softly, and reached for his hand again before deciding it was best not to. She let her fingers fall limply to her side as they left the building.

As they reached the parking lot slowly, House quickly glanced at his watch in order to hide his embarrassment. Though, upon hearing Cuddy's words, a small smile, barely visible shot through House. He managed to compose himself and to look at Cuddy without feeling like a little boy, and spoke.

"We'll have to take our separate cars, due to the parking fee and everything." It was rather lame of him, stating the obvious, but he had to get back into the flow.

"I mean, I'd...ask if you'd want to ride with me over there, but..." He motioned awkwardly once again to the parking lot. He rubbed his jaw again, his blue eyes darting too and fro. "So, you'll just have to...follow behind me. It's not too far. About ten minutes."

And even through all of his awkwardness, he managed to conceal the place they were eating. With a slight smile and a nod, House reached his car and started the engine.

He didn't play any music in his car like he usually did. Merely kept glancing at his mirror every once in a while, just to make sure Cuddy was behind him. And every time, she was. House called the restaurant on his cell phone one last time just to double check the reservations.

Yup. All set.

Gregory House. Party of two.

Booked at Epernay. A four star restaurant in Montclair, New Jersey. Famed for its French classics.

And also...

The romantic setting.


	9. Touché

Thanks for all the reviews guys! Here's chapter 9!

Chapter 9

Cuddy anxiously and numbly nodded her agreement as House stated the obvious. Her mouth and throat had suddenly gone dry, and for an instant--due to some insane lapse of judgment--Cuddy noticed that House's eyes were a remarkable shade of icy blue. He could probably quench her thirst if she looked hard enough.

Oh, God.

But she had to break eye contact, so she gave him a small, uncomfortable smile and ambled back to her car in a way that didn't scream 'confident professional woman' the way her movements usually did.

She should hate House for this.

But the plain fact remained. She didn't hate him. She didn't hate him at all.

And what really killed her most of all was that when they returned to work on Monday, he would pretend nothing had happened, that they were all back to normal.

She fumbled her keys and dropped them twice on the way to her car like an absolute fool, and then struggled to follow House's car in the dark (why were there so damn many cars in the world that looked like his, for Chrissakes?)

House's car finally slowed and turned into the parking lot of a very fancy restaurant that Cuddy vaguely recognized from a date she'd gone on, many years before. Her mouth fell open. This was where House had booked their dinner reservations? There was no way. This had to be a practical joke from House. This was too…professional, elegant for him. But then again… she evidently did not know the Greg House she thought she knew.

House got out of the car, rubbing his jaw. It had become a rather bad habit. He reached for his cane, rubbing the handle slowly. His hair looked wind-ridden, even though he hadn't rolled his windows down. It was most likely due to the fact that he had unconsciously ran a hand through his hair multiple times.

He saw Cuddy park next to his car and waited patiently for her to come out. He tried to reinforce that he was in control. He was. He was. It was okay. It was fine. He had this.

...Who was he kidding?

He adjusted his bowtie and suit jacket about five times in less than a minute.

Cuddy adjusted the strap of her sling back heels--it was starting to cut into her ankle--and hobbled painfully towards House's unmistakable silhouette in the parking lot, his body framed by light spilling out from the restaurant's imposing front doors.

She stopped in front of him and said simply, "Wow." And that was it for quite some time. "It's impossible to get reservations here! How far ahead of time did you call this place?" Cuddy was still rather suspicious about this reservation. But it seemed to be the real deal.

House's eyes immediately went to Cuddy, an almost sheepish smile on his rugged good features.

"I have connections." Was all he said. But then he saw an unmistakable cringe on Cuddy's face. He instinctively looked down to her shoes.

"You...okay...?" He muttered, averting his eyes after a little while. He really wasn't good at this whole gentlemanly act.

"Yeah, it's just these...shoes," Cuddy said, looking down at her feet with distaste. She could tear off those heels once they got a table. "Connections," Cuddy repeated slowly, fearing the worst. "What, a bribe? Extortion? Threats?" She raised an eyebrow and attempted what she thought was a joking tone.

"Or did you just use your oh-so-deadly charm?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Cuddy wholeheartedly regretted it. She had sounded completely earnest.

To buy herself time to recover, she pulled on the cashmere cardigan that had been dangling over one arm as she crossed the parking lot. "Shall we?" she said, pausing at the door and turning back. She was eternally grateful that it was dark, for she was pretty sure that she was blushing deeply.

As Cuddy's gaze dropped from him quickly, House realized that she...she meant what she said. He allowed himself a quick grin before continuing.

"Oh..." He said, pretending to think. "A little bit of everything. But mostly my deadly cripple ploy and my good looks."

He was about to pull open the doors, when a waiter opened it for him.

"Good evening, sir, Madame. Welcome to Epernay."

House nodded and went up to the waiter at the front.

"Gregory House. Party of two." He replied, his tone, clear, cut, and oh so cool.

The waiter smiled. "Right this way if you will."

House and Cuddy followed the waiter to a table next to an absolutely beautiful scenery of New Jersey's skyscrapers. House let the waiter pull the chair out for Cuddy as he was trying to remain inconspicuous, and not too…'kind'.

"Ah, the cripple ploy," Cuddy said with exaggerated amazement. "Works every time. Especially that one time you were trying to get me to think you'd really apologized to that poor woman who thought she had cancer." She shook a finger at House in mock disappointment. "Don't think I didn't see through that one."

Party of two. Cuddy's stomach leapt a bit at the words, but she wasn't sure why, not even when they were seated across from each other at a little table by a large window with a spectacular view.

"Nice," Cuddy said, honestly impressed. "This place looks a bit better than it did the last time I was here on a--" Whoops. She stopped abruptly, not wanting to tell House about some awkward date she'd been on before. "The last time I was here," she finished, and opened her menu to avoid keeping eye contact.

By now, she was fiercely hoping that things would go back to normal on Monday at work. She wasn't sure she could take much more of this. House was so…so deadly charming!

There was an awkward tension in the air as House pretended, like Cuddy, to have an avid interest in the menu. He furrowed his brow and drank some water that the waiter had already brought. He realized that he would usually make a remark about what kind of guy would bring her here to get into her pants, but...this time, nothing.

House sighed to himself. All this French stuff. He had no idea what to order. He was just content with a reuben and fries, but, he had to be...sophisticated tonight. He then realized it was still awkwardly quiet.

Oh damn. Small talk. He hated it. it was like you were talking about one thing, but you really weren't, and you needed a secret decoder to actually figure it out.

"So..." House drawled out, smirking slightly. "Do I get clinic duty off for this?" He asked, the teasing evident in his voice. He was trying to maintain normality. Or rather…some sense of it.

Cuddy made a small sound halfway between an exasperated sigh and a soft laugh. "What difference does it make, whether you get off duty or not? You're never going to log any hours for me. I've accepted that!"

Actually, not. She'd said it only for humor's sake. Of course she'd be back on his case on Monday--House would know that. He knew her far too well...sometimes, she feared, even better than she knew herself.

Now there was a frightening thought.

A suave-looking waiter sauntered up with a vintage Veuve Cliquot champange in his hands. Cuddy actually had to look twice--this waiter was really...something (Cuddy cut her brain off before it thought something indecent, or something that was more like a 'House' thing to say).

"Yes, please," Cuddy said urgently, even before the waiter--looking surprised--had even opened his mouth. He duly poured them both a glass of the sparkling, white beverage. She figured she needed this, what after this…event with her…co-worker.

House grinned his trademark grin and took a sip. "Right." He drawled. "Of course you accepted it. That's obviously why you hounded me just two days ago to log in six more hours. They have the same symptoms, most of them. It's fear is what it is. Mothers scared for their kids with colds, Teenagers afraid of STDs..." House trailed off. The waiter was still there.

He turned to the waiter. "We're obviously not ready yet. Could you...back off a couple hundred steps, kid?" House had briefly analyzed him. The guy thought he certainly had it all. (But he was a waiter!) His hair was sleeked back almost obnoxiously and his brown eyes showed no emotion--, but perhaps, a bit condescending.

There was a pause. "Of course, sir." The waiter replied, a bit snobbishly. "My name is Nick, and I'll be serving you today."

"Yeah, yeah. Look, Nate, back off."

Cuddy shrugged, a bright smile returning to her face as humorous normality between her and House resumed. This was the way it was meant to be, not...not...awkward and tense and everything else she'd just experienced in the past hour.

"So cure fear, then. It'd be the peak of your career...even better than the time you skipped a diagnostics meeting to download porn." Cuddy raised her champagne glass as if to say, 'touché', and took a sip.


	10. Intervention

Chapter 10

The waiter looked offended and turned his back on House, choosing instead to focus on Cuddy, who was...wow. Nick was only a college student nearby, but this random, dark haired older woman was enough to make him forget the college varsity cheerleaders. He left House and Cuddy alone for a moment to look over their menus, but returned too quickly, keen on refilling Cuddy's champagne glass, but missed as he lamely tried to keep eye contact while he poured.

"You're looking lovely this evening, Miss...?" he said, trying to sound suave. "Would you--"

"You're...missing," Cuddy pointed out sharply at the trickle of champagne running down the stem of her glass.'

House grinned. He raised his glass and tilted his head slightly as if to acknowledge her. Their eyes met, and an intense chemistry seemed to flow between them. The look on House's face seemed to take ages of of him. He seemed younger, the rugged features merely enhancing his looks. His grin- the one with dimples, outstandingly adorable.

But then all that was ruined by that over eager, nauseating...child.

Just a scrawny looking college kid. Stupid, snobby, too much testosterone, college kid. But still, and yet...this kid, Nate, Nick, Ned, Nigel, Noah.

Infuriated him.

Usually, he wouldn't have cared. He would have made fun of the kid, and would have made fun of Cuddy afterwards. But tonight was supposed to be special! He went through all this trouble, and he would NOT let a stupid child ruin this.

House's brow furrowed, his lips tightly pressed together. He opened his mouth to say a rude remark, (possibly something about his mother, or the kid's looks...something a long that line..). When he stopped. He heard Cuddy's tone, and saw the boy blush.

Cool.

His turn, it seemed like.

"Since when did New Jersey run out of horny teenage girls?"

The boy looked up, torn between embarrassment and anger. But it seemed, he would not get the hint.

Ah. Hmm. This was strange, very strange. Cuddy could feel that blasted college kid's eyes on her and it was terribly unnerving. He was, what, half her age? But clearly he wasn't going to let that difference get him down. He just...grinned broadly at her like he was pretty damn secure with himself, almost like he thought he was...

House.

Cuddy glanced up sharply, planning to give House a look that said 'save me', but when he let a typical rude comment fly, that plan was killed and Cuddy decided to have some fun.

"Easy on the poor guy!" Cuddy said with exaggerated patience before Nick could reply, and laid a hand softly on his forearm. "That's enough champagne for now. Someone's already drunk, from the sound of it." She looked at House significantly, and college boy Nick let out a very undignified snort of laughter.

"I wish we got more customers like you, ma'am," he said, blatantly sucking up. "It'd give me more of an incentive to come to work every day." He gave House a fleeting, dismissive glance. "I'll give you a few more moments to look over your menus." He smiled goofily and was off to another table.

House was very flustered. He was a lightweight, but he knew, as well as Cuddy knew, it wasn't the champagne that did him in. But House caught her look and immediately calmed himself. Cuddy was with him. Not with that kid.

Him.

Not kid. He kept reminding himself.

As the waiter walked away, House held back the urge to yell more obscenities, and settled for muttering darkly under his breath. Cuddy's hand from his arm hadn't moved, and House felt...stupidly reassured.

He was a grown man, and yet, here he was, getting angered by a mere, dimwit college boy.

"Stupid little..."

Cuddy watched House with an amused smirk playing across her lips. It was almost adorable how easily things irked him.

...Not at work, though. At work he was an absolute nightmare when the smallest of stressors presented itself. It was like being with House ouside of the hospital allowed Cuddy to see him in a whole new light. He was very nearly...nearly...lovable?

She shook herself internally, drew her hand back from House's arm, and played with the corner of her cloth napkin on the table. She found this side of House…this jealous side of House…very humorous.

"That waiter's a cute one," Cuddy said absently, just to see what House would fire back in response.

"Cute?!" House snapped, his blue eyes almost frantic like searching Cuddy's face. "Have you completely lost your mind? Just because he poured champagne and...commented..." House gestured wildly to Cuddy's general area. "On you. And how you look spectacular tonight, and-"

House stopped. He couldn't believe he said that to her so...truthfully. Sure, he had said it earlier, but that had a hint of a joke in it.

House tried to go on as if nothing happened, "And here that little son of a..." He stopped himself, "...and you, you, think he's adorable?!"

But then, of course. As he finished his last sentence, and saw Cuddy's ever widening smile. He realized she was joking.

...He couldn't believe it took him that long to figure it out.

Shaking her head and laughing silently to herself, Cuddy waited patiently until House's fit had subsided. Oh, the stories she could tell on Monday...well, if she were one to tell stories, anyway. Cuddy had never been the type to stand around the water cooler and gossip; she always had something better to do.

"Why can't I make a simple remark on a simple observation?" Cuddy asked, still laughing. "I've had to put up with you and all your comments on 'hot patients' all the time...do you remember--" she leaned forward across the table, ready to get into her story, "--the time that seventeen year-old girl started stalking you? And you actually...interrupted...my meeting to scream about your unstoppable love? Think about that, and then tell me if you can still act all offended by what I said."

House blinked. Cuddy had just moved closer to him, or rather, as close as you could get when you were sitting across from each other.

Having felt like he had some composure over himself, he began his...painfully obvious, not thought out argument.

"Because your radar for boys have obviously gone down hill. You should be getting the 'he's so cute' thing for...m-Wilson. Or something. NOT-" House shot a dark glare in the direction of the waiter who was coming back, "Sleazy teenage boys."

House turned his eyes back on Cuddy. "I meant it." He grinned. "Our love is definitely unstoppable." For, a sudden plan had suddenly formed inside House's mind, as his eyes had that playful, mischievous glint.


	11. House's Plan

So sorry for the late update!

Chapter 11

Cuddy raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, but you're allowed to drool after sleazy teenage girls? I see. It all makes sense now." She threw both hands up in the air in a 'hallelujah' gesture. "The sun is really coming up here!"

She settled back in her seat and tried her best to look very serious as she thought about House's point. "You know, Wilson IS good-looking. I can't believe I never realized that until now. I should give him a call tomorrow, hmmn? What do you say?" Of course she was still joking. At the moment, it was hard to imagine anyone being dashing and handsome and charming besides...the person who was already sitting across from her.

Her breath had caught in her throat. For a moment it sounded as if House had suggested their love--THEIR love--was unstoppable. As in herself...and House. Theirs. But then she remembered who they'd been talking about: that Ali girl from forever ago, and Cuddy's momentary fantasy was shattered. She couldn't take House seriously with all this love stuff. It just wasn't him. And yet…that little girl inside of her wanted her to believe that maybe this WAS her knight in shining armor. Of course…she also hoped he wasn't a loser in aluminum foil. She shook her head, smiling slightly to herself. Greg House was no loser. He may be a dork at some points, but no, not a loser. He would never be a loser. Blinking, she realized this night had already had so many twists and turns, she could hardly keep up.

And of course Nick had to come sauntering back, ruining the moment once and for all.

"Have you decided what you'll be having tonight? Sir?" He allowed his gaze to linger on Cuddy, who fidgeted awkwardly and tugged at her necklace. "...and Madam?" Jeeeesus. She was hot. HOT. So what if she was older? Nick loved the maturity and professionalism that flowed from this woman. His eyes must have stared a second too long, because the man who, was obviously a jerk, thought Nick, was glaring daggers at him, and yet, it was with a cool composure. The lady deserved so much better than that grumpy old guy…

"Technically." House shot back, "She had the hots for me, until you so charmingly pointed out she was sick."

However, when Nick came back, this time, House was ready. He reached across the table for Cuddy's hand and gripped it, shockingly gently, rubbing his thumb across her hand.

"What are you planning to have, darling?" House asked, his deep voice resonating, as he pretended to ignore the waiter altogether. "It has to be special, anything you want, Lisa. After all..." House paused.

"This is our anniversary." House let a charming smile light his face as he watched Cuddy. He then turned his head slightly towards the waiter. "And if you're not sure, I bet this young ki-" He caught himself, "...man, could give US, some recommendations."

Cuddy flashed House an innocent-looking smile. "It's what I do," she said plainly. "Since, you know, it's my job. People do their jobs sometimes, though I know it's a foreign concept to you." She waved her hands around as if she were outlining diagrams in the air. "It's too complicated for you."

Nick stood at Cuddy's side, practically breathing down her neck, and looking cocky as ever. He was about to recomment an excellent coq au vin when House's comment caught him off guard. Darling? Anniversary? He took a step back from Cuddy, fearing an angry husband's wrath. Suddenly Nick found himself desperately wishing the bitter-looking guy in front of him hadn't noticed him looking down his wife's top.

"Ah, happy anniversary to the happy couple!" he stammered, trying to look sincere. (And make up for the past fifteen minutes) "Might I recommend the fish with white wine sauce and sautéed beans? It's our most popular special occasion platter."

Cuddy couldn't answer. She was staring across the table at House, stunned. That was a daring (and rather creative) save of his. Hmm. She was almost...impressed.

House was trying very hard to maintain a straight face, but then realized, hey. This was his...'anniversary'. He let out a laugh, rather a chuckle. But still, he hadn't really laughed for years. His eyes shone, as he looked straight at Cuddy.

Even without looking at the waiter, House could just imagine the frantic thoughts going through the kid's head. The first of it being, 'Oh shit. They're married.'

House knew that he could let go of Cuddy's hand at anytime, but instead, he seemed to grip tighter. A sudden longing there. A sudden...need for the strikingly beautiful woman in front of him. How he conveyed it with just his hands, he didn't know. But there was such a powerful surge that came out of nowhere. He needed her. He needed her so very much.

With his free hand, he reached into his coat jacket and pulled out a velvet box. It was a necklace, and he slid it across the table to her, his eyes, never leaving her face.

Cuddy simply stared at their clasped hands on the table when House's hold on her fingers tightened. This time, there was no awkwardness, no strangeness in it at all. Somehow, it just felt right--like this was how they were meant to be, the whole time. All those years of getting on each other's cases, all those years of being petty and mean to each other...all it really meant was...this.

"Oh, my God," Cuddy heard herself whisper in shock as the velvet box was passed to her. On any other day at the hospital she wouldn't have opened it for fear it was some kind of practical joke, but tonight the atmosphere was different.

She reached towards the box with shaky hands and lifted it an inch off the table.

At her side, Nick coughed lamely and sidled away, not wanting to have to stand through a married couple's display of affection, no matter how fine a piece he thought the wife was. Um. Yes.

Awestruck, Cuddy opened the box and lifted out a delicate necklace that couldn't have come cheap. It caught the light and shimmered, seeming to change colors in the flickering candlelight.

"House...?"


	12. A Near Happy Ending

Whoa, Guys! That's so many reviews on the last chapter, I was thrilled! Thank you all! Here's Chapter 12, the next chapter will be up in the next couple of days!

Chapter 12

There was a reason Wilson had declined the invitation with Cuddy and guided her to pick House. When Wilson told House what he had done, House immediately knew what he wanted to do. Two days before, he had bought the necklace, of course, caused mayhem at the store before buying one of the jeweler's top products.

The sleazy waiter went unnoticed to House as he tried to read Cuddy's expression. But he found he didn't know what her expression meant. That alone frightened him more than anything. He was always pretty horrible at these tender moments. He always was. But House tried, he tried really hard to maintain like he was still in control.

"Yes?" He replied, his voice low as he clasped his hands together.

To Cuddy's own complete and total surprise, she promptly burst into tears. They were silent tears, but tears nevertheless. Cuddy was embarrassed at this show of emotions. Therefore, that mood was transferred over to anger at House.

Perhaps 'burst' was the wrong word. But in any case, plain as day, Cuddy was sobbing silently, holding the lovely silver and pearl piece of jewelry so that it glowed in t he candlelight.

"How do you do this?" she choked out when she'd found her voice. "How can you be such a jerk some days, make my life hell, and then turn around and..." she laid the necklace back in its satin-lined box to leave her hands free to run through her hair in exasperation. "...You turn around and do this! I don't understand you, House!" Of course, that had to be the understatement of the world at this moment, but she just couldn't place her finger on House at all! It drove her insane, that although she knew this temperamental man in front of her for many, many years, she didn't know a _thing _about him. Sure, she knew he was brilliant, and had a thirst for puzzles, but she didn't…she didn't know him personally. Not really at all, and that itself made her feel this loss.

She stopped and bit her lip. She could just picture how terrible she looked...she was a wreck, sitting there crying in the restaurant in front of House, who was still infuriatingly composed. Trying to meet his eyes, she lifted her chin up, needing to ask a question in desperation. Yes, desperation.

"What are we? What is all this for?"

Uh-oh.

Nervous break down Cuddy alert was his first thought.

The second was:

Oh SNAP.

House's eyes quickly scanned Cuddy's face, watching her shake, watching her fumble for her words. She seemed (to House that is) that she wanted to throttle him, yet hug him at the same time.

Now House had to figure out what he was going to say, and quickly. He knew if he joked, he'd probably get slapped, or kicked by those heels, and he really didn't want that. If he sounded too mushy, she'd think he was high.

But the hardest thing for House was to say this all truthfully. Right now, right here. House opened his mouth to talk, but found himself at a lost for words, as he had done many times this evening. His hand automatically went to his jaw, as he dropped his gaze. He had to tell her.

He slowly looked up, his voice, barely heard.

"I need you." He said, "And not just...at work, or you saving my ass. I..." Now here, House knew he'd sound cliché, but it was how he felt.

"I lov-"

The waiter came back, and opened his mouth for orders, realized he was interrupting something, got freaked out by House's glare, and tried to leave as quickly as possible without trying to look foolish. At which he failed at. Quite miserably.

House's voice shook as he said those three words. Those three syllables.

"I love you." And then he dropped his gaze.

House was right--as always: Cuddy was indeed torn between either strangling him right there or grabbing him in a hug and never letting go. What his next words were, was going to determine that for either better or worse.

A terrible thought hit Cuddy then. What if House WAS high? Then this--the music, the dinner, the necklace--it would all be wrong. Sometimes after work as she passed by House's office on the way out of the building, she'd catch sight of him still at work with his lamp on, brow furrowed, and a bunch of scribbled notes on his desk. And all those moments, she'd thought to herself how wonderful it would be if she and House were--well...more than just coworkers who annoyed each other daily.

And now that this was happening, she couldn't bear for it all to be products of House's drugged delusions. She looked intently into his eyes, trying to see if his pupils were dilated, but it was too dim in the restaurant to tell.

Then he said something very short and simple that made Cuddy forget what she'd been worrying about in the first place.

He loved her.

What? Since when? All along she'd thought she had been the one with hidden feelings!

Relief washed over her, intense relief that all her worrying was done. That infernal waiter Nick had come back, just in time to hear House's words, but Cuddy could care less.

She leaned across the table to draw House into a very teary kiss.

And Nick just stared.


	13. You Get What You Need

Last chapter, everyone! Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter 13

House looked up just in time to be met with a kiss, albeit, a wet one, but still a wonderful kiss. At first he was quite awkward about it, after all, since when was the last time a woman had kissed him? Hookers didn't kiss him even. But for some reason, House never wanted them to. And now he realized why.

He wanted Cuddy. Lisa Cuddy. He leaned forward, making the kiss deeper as his heart started to furiously pound against his chest. One of his hands came to Cuddy's cheek, wiping the tears away gently. His deft, long, piano hands skimmed across her smooth, almost perfect skin.

Nick stood there. Wow. He thought. He had always hooked up with girls, and then dumped them three weeks later because of the lack of intensity, or just for the fact that they just weren't that pretty. But this...but this...oh WOW. There was so much! And yet, it looked to him as if it hadn't even begun, that this was merely...the very beginning. Then Nick noticed something. The man didn't have a ring on his finger. Nick blinked. But if this was their anniversary...He figured he shouldn't say anything at the moment.

House deeply inhaled her scent, enjoying it. If he was going to get high, it was going to be because of her. High off of Lisa Cuddy. Oh, the irony of it all. House managed a small grin, as the kiss eased up.

Nick, deeply shaken and with a goofy grin on his face as if he'd enjoyed the kiss as much as the couple did, backed off and scampered to the kitchen to tell his little waiter buddies what he'd just seen.

If House had been one of Cuddy's usual lame, plaid-wearing, ABBA-loving dates, she would've been embarrassed at the notion that the scene was going to be replayed and retold again and again to complete strangers by another complete stranger. But as it were, her costar in this particular scene of her stressful life was none other than Greg House, and there was nothing--read: nothing--embarrassing about that.

Cuddy pulled away slowly, wishing she didn't have to, but knowing full well that after tonight, there would be plenty of moments in the future to pick up where they'd left off. House wasn't the sort of man who forgot easily. There was no way this was a fleeting thing. This, Cuddy thought resolutely and happily, was the beginning of something wonderful.

"You know what?" she whispered next to House's ear, so close she could feel his breath warm against her skin. "I feel like ordering something smothered in chocolate. What do you say we skip the meal and go directly to dessert?" She sat back again and pointed to a photo of a black forest chocolate cake in the little dessert book on the table.

How was that for spontaneity? It was incredible how one little gesture could change the mood of life for a small frame in time.

House's usually intelligent brain seemed to have melted quite nicely into a puddle of...gloop. Yes, yes that was it. Gloop. He didn't care that practically everyone at the restaurant, including waiters (thanks to that imbecile of a child) was staring, open mouthed at the intensity of the two. To House, it was just him and Cuddy. There was no one else in this world that he had formed.

No one else existed.

As Cuddy pulled away ever so slightly, but still close enough so that only he could hear when she spoke, House regained some semblance of the noise around him. The tinkling of silverware, the murmured voices...but none was as clear and direct as Cuddy's voice.

"Just the cake?" House murmured, his hand back on Cuddy's hand again. "I book reservations at a four star restaurant and you want just the cake. God, woman!" He said, but smiling every bit as he said it. After a beat he replied, "It better be huge."

Nick seemed to have impeccable timing with these things, because he appeared, not a moment late.

"Your orders for this evening?" He said, with that huge idiotic grin on his face.

"Yeah, Noah. We'll take the Black Forest cake."

"My name is Nick, sir." The boy said slightly strained. "And what about the main course?"

"You know what? I don't really give a damn. The cake is our main course. Just bring it."

But as Nick turned to leave, House's arm shot out, grabbing the boy's arm tightly so Nick had no choice but to bend down. House whispered coldly into his ear. "...And if I ever catch you looking at my wife again with anything more than a waiter should to a customer, I'll personally make sure you'll be working at McDonalds instead. You understand me?"

The boy was stricken. So the man had noticed, he thought lamely. "Y-yes sir!" He replied, and hurried off.

Cuddy, too, was not feeling quite like herself. Case in point number one: she'd broken down and cried and generally made a fool of herself in front of House, whereas on a normal day, she'd have kept her cool.

Case in point number two: she'd just made House order a cake, whereas on a normal day, the health-conscious Cuddy would've ordered a salad with grilled chicken (working in a hospital made her paranoid about her health--it was why she jogged regularly).

Clearly, this was a weird day where all conventions were going out the window...it was like the Twilight Zone!

Also uncharacteristically, she'd felt a strange, thrilling chill when House threatened to derail the waiter's, ah, career. Normally she wouldn't have allowed such open hostility, but House's territorialism made her feel...wanted.

"My, my," she said with a hint of a smirk. "Are you trying to play the whole knight-in-shining-armor angle?"

"Night in shining armor?" House questioned, a sudden image coming up to him. It wasn't very appealing to him. "Nooo..." He drawled out. "Because you're not the damsel in distress." He remarked, his blue eyes flashing joyfully.

"I don't like that kid." House said, stating the obvious. However, changing the subject again, House smiled.

"So tell me." He said, "How surprised were you?"

"I should hope not," Cuddy agreed, realizing she was far too much of a type-A personality to sit around and wait for someone to save her ass from the fire breathing dragon.

Actually, sometimes House could be a fire breathing dragon...

Funny how life had a knack for fitting into a fairytale analogy.

Cuddy raised her eyebrows at House's declaration of dislike for the young waiter, and pretended to be very interested in her silverware. "Maybe you're jealous of him," she offered, part-jokingly, and slyly looked back up at House.

She could evade House's words no longer--silverware was only plausibly interesting for about half a minute.

"On a scale from one to ten? I'd say about twelve." But some small part of her had always been keeping up with the hope that she might mean more to House than just a coworker would. "And that's putting it lightly."

Disgruntled, and slightly put off at the fact that Cuddy would suggest he was jealous of a child, he grumbled irritatingly.

"Jealous?" He asked, his eyes cast down on his tuxedo, fiddling with his bow-tie. "Why should I be jealous of a child? I have a better job than him, I'm more intelligent than him, I've got better looks than him, AND, I've got you."

Oh. Wait. Did that just slip out, again? Well, compared to that declaration of love he had proclaimed earlier, this was easier. A LOT easier.

As Cuddy's interest in the silverware dwindled, so did House's interest in his bow-tie. He looked up slowly, casting a playful smile at her as he heard her reply. "Good." He replied, "I'm...I'm glad." He tilted his head to the side, glancing out the window, and then back at Cuddy.

Another airy, romantic idea coming to him, House stood up, going over to Cuddy's side. He gently grabbed the necklace from where it lay, and picked it up in his long hands.

"You didn't put it on yet." He murmured softly, going behind Cuddy. He very tenderly, which was unusual for House, of course, everything was unusual tonight, laid the necklace on Cuddy's slender neck, clasping it together for her. Hands then resting on her shoulders, he squeezed her slightly, heading back to his seat.

Cuddy stopped breathing for what seemed like an eternity. As soon as House had gotten up, everything seemed to have gone in slow motion. She had seen his blue eyes glinting, that playful smile, and saw him gracefully get up and she had looked up slightly at that tall frame of his. As his hands lightly touched her back, her heart skipped a beat. Or two. Or three.

When he returned to his seat, Cuddy could merely smile at him. "Thank you." She said quietly.

House opened his mouth to think of something witty to say, but was saved that effort when the cake came. Nick, the waiter, cut the cake for them, serving a piece to Cuddy, and then to himself.

The couple ate in silence, merely enjoying each other's presence, which was quite laughable if you thought about it. At work, half the time they couldn't stand being in the same proximity. But this was different. This…this marked something new. This marked a new beginning for Greg House and Lisa Cuddy.

They finished quickly, and the check came. For once in his life, House paid for a meal himself that he had ate with another person. Cuddy tried to hide her emerging smile, but she could even begin to cover the swell of her heart as her feelings burst for this crazy, crazy man in front of her.

As they stood up, House faced her. "I'll drop you off." He quickly stated.

Cuddy laughed, grabbing her jacket. "I have a car, remember, House?"

"I don't care. I'll call Wilson and he can pick it up." He was intent on giving her this ride home. A traditional date, even if he was unconventional in his methods.

"But he-"

"Be selfish for once. Come on." Guiding her gently, but firmly, he directed her to his car, not giving her room to reply. When they were seated in the car, he called Wilson up and Wilson immediately agreed to go and pick up Cuddy's car.

The trip to her house was not as awkward as Cuddy thought it would be. It was comforting being in House's presence. She laughed at him, with him, just…everything with him. It seemed that the ride to her home was too short. It all ended too soon. As House parked, there was a silence in the car.

"Well." House stated. "Welcome home."

"Thank you, House." She replied. "So I guess, I'll…see you at work?"

"Yeah. I'm sure you'll see me around."

Cuddy nodded and opened the door. She shouldn't be expecting anything else, should she? So why, why was she feeling this way?!

However, she took about three steps, when she heard another car door close, and she turned around to see House.

He smiled briefly, fiddling with his bow-tie. "I'll walk you to the front door."

Cuddy couldn't help it. She laughed again. "We're not in college anymore, House."

He shrugged. "Sure felt like it tonight." He replied deviously. He limped over to her, and the two of them matched footfalls as they reached her front door. Their eyes met and Cuddy looked down, furiously searching her bag for her key.

House reached out and gently gripped her wrist. Cuddy looked up, but before she could react, House had already closed in the distance between them and kissed her. Kissed her deeply and passionately. Cuddy, her eyes wide, was slightly shocked at first, but once again, she felt her chest swelling and she closed her eyes, relishing this kiss. Blindly, she managed to successfully open her door, and House, still locked with her, slammed the door shut.

Cuddy pressed House to the wall. She did not know what she was doing. Anything logical flew out of her head hours ago. She ripped off his bowtie and House himself threw off his jacket, and shoes. His hands roamed delicately on her back and he could feel her arch against him.

"House…" she murmured trying to slow him down.

"Ghmth. Shut up, Cuddy. I'm a little busy here at the moment."

Tux shirt gone. Belt gone. House was half naked, and Cuddy was still in her dress, minus her heels. Both knew that both of them could go farther, but they both knew they should take it easy. But that didn't stop House from nuzzling her, caressing, and just being near her.

She could feel his stubbles on her neck and she expelled a breath of air. Her hands were roaming freely against him and he sighed softly. They made it to her couch, and it seemed everything slowed from that point. House held Cuddy close to him, kissing the top of her head softly. Cuddy nuzzled up to House, she couldn't get enough of him. Both of them were breathing hard because of all the adrenaline that had built up.

House murmured, "Not fair. You can't just stop a man there."

"No rules." Cuddy replied cheekily.

House sighed briefly. "Not letting you go next time. And next time, don't interrupt me unless it's you calling out my name in a burst of passion.

Cuddy rolled her eyes and smacked him on the chest.

"I hate you."

"Hate you too."

They both smiled. The two ended up watching 'I Love Lucy' reruns until 3 AM, falling asleep, intertwined together into a blissful state.


End file.
